


loneliness was built for two

by mochihui



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Magic, Curses, M/M, Nightmares, Pining, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, lapslock, seventeen are chaotic theater kids, side pairings if you squint, soulmates (kinda?)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:15:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26446930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochihui/pseuds/mochihui
Summary: a boy, a curse, and a whole lot of chaos.
Relationships: Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi/Lee Chan | Dino
Comments: 16
Kudos: 30
Collections: A Sip of Summer Wine





	1. there's a jet black crow (droning on and on and on)

**Author's Note:**

> written for the 2020 summer wine chanfest!!
> 
> prompt: curses are not broken, only traded. chan's been looking for someone to take his curse for a long while now.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chan encounters a crow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title from "twin skeletons (hotel in nyc)" by fall out boy

there’s a crow outside chan’s window.

it’s perched on the very edge of the windowsill, gnarled claws gripping to the cracked concrete, inky black feathers shimmering like an oil spill under the bright, september-morning sunshine. chan watches as it hops from one end of the ledge to the other, apprehension churning in his stomach. 

_ maybe it's a hallucination _ , he thinks, squeezing his eyes shut. maybe he’s just imagining things, tired mind too worn out from trying to comprehend the various math problems scribbled over the pages on the desk in front of him. it wouldn’t be the first time.

but when chan cracks one eye open, the crow is still there. it’s facing him now, beady gaze piercing through him even from the other side of the glass. as he watches, the crow tilts its head to the side, almost like it’s mocking chan’s disbelief.

_ definitely real, then _ . chan takes a deep breath, letting it out in a shaky exhale. 

“hey hansol?” he calls out to his roommate, keeping his eyes fixed on the bird. “have you ever seen a crow?”

“i don't think so.” the bedsprings creak underneath hansol as he moves. “why? what's up?”

“come here for a second.” chan says. he hears hansol pad across the dormitory, footsteps stopping short when he catches sight of the crow.

“woah. when did that get here?” hansol’s voice is tinged with awe as he peers over chan’s shoulder. 

“i don’t know.” chan watches as the crow turns from side to side, smoothing out its feathers with the tip of its beak. “it just kind of appeared. out of nowhere.”

there’s a few moments of silence as they drink in the sight before them. it’s hansol who, albeit hesitantly, finally breaks the silence.

“do you think it has anything to do with your, you know--”

“my curse?” chan tears his eyes away from the crow. he turns in his chair to look up at his roommate. “what makes you say that?”

hansol shrugs. “something about it just doesn't feel right. i don’t think crows are usually that big.” he pauses for a second, weighing his words, before continuing: “and i guess crows have always reminded me of magic. not the good kind, either.”

“it’s probably not that serious.” chan shrugs, trying to brush away his roommate’s concerns. but he remembers the chill that had run down his spine when he had first caught a glimpse of the bird over the edge of his calculus textbook, remembers the sudden burst of dread in his gut. maybe it is serious.

having finished preening, the crow is back to staring him down, sinister eyes glinting in the light. it lifts its wings ever so slightly, letting the sun shine through the tips and transforming them from jet black to a deep purple. 

the sight makes chan freeze. his blood turns to ice in his veins, dread pooling in his gut. he would recognize that shade of purple anywhere, knows exactly what it brings:  _ flames. destruction. pain _ . shards of memories flash through his mind: a burning room, flashes of light, a ball of purple energy headed straight for his heart. 

“what are we going to do about it?” hansol’s voice shakes chan back to reality. his roommate leans forward, tapping lightly on the glass with a fingernail. the crow doesn't move a muscle.

chan pushes the unwelcome thoughts to the back of his mind, glancing around the dormitory for some hint of an answer. he takes in the unfinished homework still sprawled all over the desk in front of him, the dirty clothes hanging off of one end of his bed, the edge of the curtain drawn back to let the sun illuminate the room.

“we’ll ignore it for now.” he says, making up his mind. that’s what chan’s best at, after all: pretending that the potentially-life ruining magic contained within him isn't there. he rises from his chair to grab the curtain, dragging it to cover the window. the metal rings clatter against the rod above his head, the crow disappearing behind the dark blue fabric. “i’ll ask wonwoo about it when i see him. i’m sure it’ll be fine, nothing major. don't worry about it.”

hansol pats chan’s shoulder before turning away. chan hears the sheets rustle when he flops onto his bed. “good idea. let me know what he says.” 

“will do.” chan picks up his pencil, looking back down at the equations lining his half-complete worksheet. he returns to his assignment, graphite scratching against the paper, but can’t seem to shake the cold fear that has settled into his bones. 

even hours later, after thoughts of derivatives and integrals have completely consumed his brain, the silhouette of the crow remains burned into the back of his eyelids. 

—

“you saw a  _ what _ ?”

wonwoo’s eyes widen over the top of his forgotten burger, hanging limply in his hands halfway to his mouth. 

“a crow.” chan confirms, avoiding his friend’s gaze in favor of picking out a french fry from the carton in front of him. he chews on one end, staring at the sticky red vinyl of the tabletop. 

“a crow.” wonwoo repeats, tone laced with disbelief. “you have got to be kidding me.”

“is it really such a bad thing?” chan reaches for another fry. “i mean, it’s just a bird.”

wonwoo shakes his head. “not if it’s a magical one. a lot of times, crows will show up in places where there’s some kind of strong dark magic. there’s a reason why they're considered bad omens.” he frowns, creases deepening between his eyebrows. chan recognizes the expression as wonwoo’s thinking face, the one he wears when hers brewing a particularly difficult potion or attempting a complex spell. after so many years of training, the worry lines have become permanently engraved on the witch’s skin. “have your nightmares been worse lately?”

“same as always.” chan shrugs. he tries not to think about how he had woken up in a cold sweat earlier that morning, tries not to think about the hammering of his heart against his chest, the shallow breaths floating through his lungs as he gripped tightly to the fabric of his sheets. 

just because it happens nearly every night doesn't make it any less dreadful.

“huh.” wonwoo pauses, lost in thought. chan can practically hear the gears turning in his brain. “your curse obviously qualifies as dark magic. but it doesn’t make sense for the crow to only show up now, especially since you've been cursed for most of your life. that's really weird.”

“what's really weird?” someone else slides onto the plastic cafeteria bench next to wonwoo, setting their own tray down in front of them. chan’s head snaps up in surprise, coming face to face with dark eyes and a slight smirk. the stranger’s silver hair is pushed away from his forehead with some sort of gel, fingertips peeking out from the sleeves of his light blue hoodie. when he catches chan’s eye, the smirk grows into a full-fledged grin.

wonwoo sighs in exasperation, but there's a fond smile on his face. “chan, junhui. junhui, chan.” he gestures between them with a wave of his hand. “chan’s a friend from high school, he just started here.”

“oh, so you're junhui.” chan perks up at the familiar name.  _ i met another witch _ , he remembers wonwoo telling him, excitement palpable even over the phone speaker. “i've heard of you before.”

“really?” junhui turns towards wonwoo, whose ears have gone pink. “all good things, i hope.”

“of course not.” wonwoo fires back. junhui merely laughs, grabbing the sandwich on his tray.

“so, what were you saying when i got here? something’s really weird?” he asks between bites. 

“chan saw a crow the other day.” wonwoo explains. junhui lets out a startled noise, swallowing hurriedly and looking between the other two in alarm.

“a crow? do you know what it could be?”

wonwoo looks at chan, eyebrow raised, a silent ask for permission. chan considers it for a moment, before nodding slightly, telling wonwoo to go on. after three years of friendship, chan’s got plenty of faith in wonwoo’s opinion, especially on magic. and if wonwoo trusts junhui, then chan will too.

“chan’s been cursed.” wonwoo wastes no time in getting right to the point. junhui turns to chan, a mixture of curiosity and sympathy in his eyes. 

“i have nightmares.” chan sighs. the words fall from his lips without a second thought, inflections practiced and perfected from the countless explanations he’s had to make over the years. “the curse takes all of my good dreams and replaces them with bad ones.”

“i see.” junhui nods in understanding. “you saw the crow the day you were cursed, then?”

“no, actually.” chan clarifies, hands fidgeting with the hem of his sweatshirt. “i’ve been cursed for most of my life. that's what’s weird about it all.”

junhui’s expression shutters closed, going from warm to cold in a split second. “but you just saw the crow?” at chan’s nod, he lets out a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair. “that’s bad. that’s really bad.”

“do you know what it could be?” wonwoo presses, although gently. he places a comforting hand on junhui’s shoulder. junhui closes his eyes for a moment, before reopening them and fixing his gaze on chan. it’s piercing, all of his original playfulness gone and replaced with something much more intense. chan has to fight the urge to look away.

“when dark magic starts to show up around someone who’s already encountered it before, it usually means that the person who hurt them in the first place is somewhere nearby.” junhui’s voice is surprisingly steady in comparison to his stricken face. “back home, i knew someone who bumped into the person that hexed his family’s house when he was still a child. a couple weeks before they actually met, he saw one of his house plants wither right before his eyes.”

chan lets out a sigh, more out of resignation than fear.  _ two weeks into university and i’m already in deep shit,  _ he thinks to himself.  _ disappointed, but not surprised.  _

“damn, that  _ is _ really bad.” wonwoo whispers, tone steeped in worry. he seems a lot more concerned than chan is. “so the person who cursed you might be nearby.”

“is there anything we can do? it’s not like i’ll be able to fight them or anything.” chan shrugs in defeat. 

“you’ll have to protect yourself.” determination flickers in junhui’s eyes. “try not to go anywhere alone if you can help it. you can stick by me and wonwoo if our schedules line up.” he thinks for a moment before adding, “say, would you be opposed to joining the theater club?”

chan’s confusion must be written all over his face, because junhui backtracks quickly. “it's just that there are lots of magically capable people in the club. we can keep you company wherever you go, and you'll definitely be safer if you spend some of your time with us.”

“oh, um.” chan falters at junhui’s apparent generosity. “that would be a big inconvenience for you guys, wouldn't it? i don’t want to cause any trouble.”

“chan, it’s not an inconvenience if it keeps you safe.” wonwoo speaks up, junhui nodding vigorously beside him. at chan’s disbelieving look, he adds, “really. if there’s a dark magic user hanging around, we’re all in danger. sticking together would help us all.”

chan makes a noncommittal noise, fingers toying with the empty french fry container. of all the things he had thought about when he decided to attend university, joining a club was definitely not one of them. as much as he tried to set aside his curse and lead a normal life, it still left its mark, especially on his social endeavors. when people found out about his situation, they would always start to drift away, afraid that spending too much time with chan would make them “catch the curse” too. those who did try to stick around were eventually driven off by chan’s constant exhaustion, conversations falling flat due to his lack of energy.

“if you really don't want to, you don't have to.” junhui’s voice softens, as if sensing chan’s hesitance. “but we won’t treat you differently just because you're cursed. actually, there’s someone else in the club right now who also has a curse. it's pretty similar to yours, come to think of it.” he rests his head on one hand thoughtfully.

_ someone else with a curse _ . the doubt clears from chan’s mind, replaced with a glimmer of hope. maybe, just maybe, this will be his way out for good.

“you can think it over and—”

“i’ll join.” chan says, lifting his chin to meet junhui’s eyes. “when do you guys meet?”

surprise flits across junhui’s expression before it melts into a smile. “there’s an initial meeting for first-years next saturday. 10 in the morning, at the dance studio across from the campus starbucks. i can let them know you’ll be there.”

“i’ll be there.” chan promises, resolute. a moment later, he adds “is it okay if i don't know anything about theater at all?”

“totally.” junhui reassures. “we’ll explain everything to you, and you'll get the hang of it pretty quick. it's not that hard. plus, you can always drop out if you absolutely hate it.”

chan nods in acknowledgement, but he’s already made up his mind. he’s finally going to meet someone else with a curse, finally going to meet someone else who truly understands how he lives his life.

and maybe, just maybe, they'll be willing to take it away from him too.

—

chan was born in the middle of a storm.

heavy rain beat at the hospital walls and thunder rolled in the distance, muffling chan’s cries as he emerged into the world. according to his mother, a flash of purple lightning had illuminated the room right as he had been born, casting everything in a strange, haunting glow. 

it was the worst storm gyeonggi had seen in decades, wreaking havoc to several buildings and destroying a number of family homes. chan’s parents had only been passing through, and the hotel they had booked caved in halfway through the night, battered by strong winds. but the hospital stayed standing, and chan’s heart beat on. 

he doesn't remember when the nightmares began. for all he knows, he could have been having them since the day he was born. but he remembers the visits to all the doctors his parents could find, the hushed whispers as he sat on the floor of the waiting room, playing with the building blocks in the children’s corner. he remembers the different medicines, grape flavored gummies and sickly sweet syrups, none of which actually made a difference. 

chan was seven when he finally worked up the courage to ask about the dreams. his parents had tried to brush it off at first, telling him not to worry about it, but eventually gave in, sitting him down at the dinner table.

“channie, you have to listen carefully, okay? his mother had said, holding both of his small hands in one of her own. 

chan had nodded vigorously, eager to finally get a proper explanation.

“your nightmares…” his father took a deep breath, bracing himself for the following words. “you have nightmares because when you were little, you were cursed.”

“cursed?” chan tilted his head to the side, confusion etched across his face. 

“somebody bad used dark magic to cast a spell on you, to make you have lots and lots of bad dreams.” his father answered. 

“why would they do that? isn't that evil?” chan's brows contracted into a frown. “i’m not even magic. why me?”

“we don't know.” there was a hint of sorrow in his mother’s voice. “we’re not magic, but there are bad people in this world who are, channie. people who don't care about anyone but themselves.”

chan thought this through for a brief moment.  _ curses had to have a solution, right? _

“can’t we just break the curse?” his face lit up. “like they do in the movies! then i won't have to have any more nightmares!”

his father sighed. “it’s not that simple, kiddo. curses can’t be broken, there’s just no way. the only way to get rid of a curse is to trade it with someone else.”

“maybe someday, you’ll find someone who’s willing to trade with you.” his mother supplied. “someone with a lighter curse.”

“but then they'd have to have bad dreams every night! that’s not fair!” chan stared at his mother in horror. “i don't want someone else to have nightmares because of me!”

his mother had smiled softly at him, her eyes glassy. “oh, chan.” she reached out to brush his hair away from his forehead. “you’re always so thoughtful.”

chan clung to his curse for a long time, growing fiercely stubborn every time his parents mentioned the possibility of a trade. why would he willingly give it away, willingly make someone else suffer through the nightly ordeals? he could live with it, had already grown accustomed to interrupted sleep, to always feeling a little tired, to the apprehension each night when he closed his eyes. he was going to be alright.

so he kept his head up, even as his eyelids drooped with exhaustion. 

but no matter how strong his will was, it couldn’t last forever. before long, his resolve was melting into resentment, and he found himself entertaining the idea of exchanging his curse more and more often. he was sick of the permanent exhaustion, sick of constantly yawning, sick of spending nearly every night in a terrified daze. it didn't help that the nightmares began to change as he got older, varying in their horrors: from failing his classes to public humiliation to watching people he loved disappear right before his eyes, each one seemed worse than the last. he tried to push it away, keeping his head held high, but deep down he knew that there was only one option: chan needed to rid himself of the curse, give it away for good. 

who in their right mind would be willing to trade with him, would be willing to take on the burden of such awful dreams? chan doesn't know. all he knows is that he’s been looking for someone to take his curse for a long time now.

—

the crow reappears a few days after chan’s conversation with wonwoo and junhui. he spots it on his way home from a late night spent studying in the library, stopping dead in his tracks at the sight. under the ghostly glow of the street lamps, the bird looks even more terrifying than it did before, feet curled around the top of a stop sign. there's an unsettling glint in its beady black eyes.

“no, no, no.” chan mutters, quickening his pace. he half-walks, half-runs all the way back to the dorms. he takes the stairs up to the third floor two at a time, not bothering to wait for the elevator.  _ the person who cursed you might be nearby _ . wonwoo’s voice rings through his head as his sneakers scuff the concrete. 

the room is dark when chan bursts in. hansol is sprawled out on the opposite bed, already fast asleep. chan locks the door behind him, letting out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. his hands shake as he changes into his pajamas before he lies down on his own bed and pulls the blanket to his chin.

chan closes his eyes, inhales, and braces himself for the nightmare to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is both my first ever chaptered fic and also my first time writing for a ficfest!! thank you to the summer wine mods for making this possible <3 i'm super excited to be participating in this project!!
> 
> i'm also super excited to finally write a modern magic au!! i love reading these but i was always hesitant to try and write one before i got this prompt. i hope everything in this chapter made sense, and constructive criticism is always welcome!! and yes, soonyoung hasn't showed up yet, but he's coming soon :D
> 
> i'm hoping to post a new chapter of this fic every 2-3 weeks, probably on saturdays or sundays. that being said, i am in school, so my schedule might fluctuate depending on the other responsibilities i have to deal with. i hope you understand!! i really do want to finish this fic so i will do my absolute best to update consistently ^-^
> 
> let me know what you think so far!! any comments and kudos are greatly appreciated <3
> 
> scream about lee chan with me on my [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/aerojuns) or leave thoughts in my [ccat](https://www.curiouscat.me/mochihui)!!


	2. guard dog of all your fever dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chan has a nightmare and meets a certain someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title from "immortals" by fall out boy
> 
> warning for descriptions of violence

it’s dark inside the closet. 

he’s curled up in a tight ball, arms wrapped around his knees, which are pressed close to his chest. the coldness of the wall seeps through his thin pajama shirt to ghost over his skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. flashes of light filter through the crack between the two wooden doors, rapidly changing colors accompanied by loud bangs and muffled shouting. his breath comes in shallow gasps, heart pounding against his ribs.

it's been a while since chan’s had this particular nightmare. but no matter how many times he dreams this dream, it never gets any less terrifying.

he waits for what he knows is coming next, a lump forming in the back of his throat. soon enough, the awful screaming fills his ears, followed by the threatening crackle of fire. the telltale purple glow bleeds into the closet, washing over the carpet in one smooth wave.

chan uncurls himself, reaching out with a trembling hand to push open the door. he tiptoes out of his hiding spot and emerges into the empty hallway. it’s one that he’s come to recognize through the years of recurring dreams, but has never actually seen in real life. the purple light is coming from what he knows as the living room, a few feet to his left, and his feet move involuntarily, carrying him towards the illuminated doorway like a moth drawn to the light. 

he stops on the threshold just as he always does, taking in a familiar scene: two bodies lay sprawled on the hardwood floor while violet fire blazes at the edges of the room, eating away at the walls and furniture. a hooded figure stands sentinel in the midst of the chaos. their arm is outstretched, eerie flames dancing on fingertips. slowly, ominously, their head turns in chan’s direction.

chan freezes, blood running cold in his veins. the fire in the figure’s hand disappears, replaced with a sinister ball of pulsing purple and red energy. _run_ , screams a voice in the back of chan’s head. _run away now._ but he can’t. no matter how hard he tries, his feet stay glued to the hardwood floor, unable to move a muscle. 

the figure draws their hand back in one swift, fluid motion, before launching the glowing sphere through the air. it hits chan square in the chest, and he looks down, watching it melt straight into him. 

there’s a brief pause. chan inhales sharply, feeling his skin heat up where it had been touched by the ball. then he’s hitting the ground, unbearable pain bursting through his body. it scalds every one of his muscles, white-hot, eating away at him from the inside out. chan’s mouth falls open in a silent scream. 

his vision blurs, stained red at the edges. still, he manages to make out the purple-red beam rising from his body, piercing through the ceiling. the pain worsens, burning even stronger, and he squeezes his eyes shut, gritting his teeth. 

_make it stop_ , he tries to plead, though the words don't leave his mouth. _please. just make it go away_.

one of his hands rises off the ground, jerkily lifting itself into the air. with all the energy he can muster, he guides it to hover, trembling, over his heart, before letting it fall. he expects darkness, expects to black out, expects to escape from the scene. after all, this is how the dream always ends.

except this time, it doesn't.

the pain melts away, leaving only his sore muscles and pounding heart behind, but he can still see the charred ceiling above him, can still hear the faint whispers of the fire around him. he pushes himself up with aching arms, looking around at the chaos surrounding him. 

the hooded figure is nowhere in sight, but the purple flames rage onwards, eating away at the plaster walls at an alarming rate. glass shards litter the floor, courtesy of the smashed windows lining the edges of the room. a lump rises in chan’s throat at the sight, a gaping cavern of loss opening up in his chest, threatening to swallow him whole.

he pushes himself to his feet, scattered debris digging into bare skin, stumbling his way towards the two bodies on the opposite side of the room. reaching the first one, he presses his fingers to the woman’s neck, desperately searching for a pulse.

nothing. she lies, lifeless, on the living room floor, her flesh cold to the touch. chan stops, shell-shocked, before grief crashes through him in waves, bringing him to his knees.

he chokes, gagging momentarily, before turning and vomiting all over the glass-covered hardwood. _she's dead. she's gone._ his shoulders shake with the force of his sobs, tears flooding down his cheeks, clutching to the burnt edge of her shirt with trembling fingers. 

_gone. gone. gone._ the word echoes through his mind over and over, only making him cry harder. he closes his eyes and rests his face in his hands, muffling the hiccuping breaths emerging from his throat. _gone._

chan cries for what feels like hours, cries until he has no tears left to give, cries until his body gives out and his vision fades to black. when he finally opens his eyes again, he’s back in his dormitory, sheets crumpled underneath him, facing the blank white wall next to his bed. 

his mind races, stuck on overdrive, trying to comprehend what he had just witnessed. it had changed. the nightmare he had been having for years, the first cursed dream he ever remembers dreaming, had been altered. never before had he endured the pain long enough to see what happened next. never before had he felt the overpowering grief flood through him, a wave of sorrow for a person he has never met but somehow _knows_. something has shifted, something that managed to destroy the uniformity of chan’s nightmares with a completely new kind of suffering. 

it isn't until he brushes a hand against his face that chan realizes his cheeks are still damp with tears.

—

chan doesn't tell anyone about the nightmare.

he knows he probably should. after all, it definitely means something: the crow, the familiar dream, the sudden alteration. they're all connected, and maybe explaining it to someone would help him figure out exactly how everything fits together.

but who would he even tell? the obvious answer is wonwoo, but the older is currently buried in coursework from both his non-magic and magical education. chan knows firsthand how hard wonwoo has been pushing himself since high school, and being dragged into another mess is the last thing his friend needs right now. 

maybe junhui would be able to help. but considering chan’s had a grand total of one conversation with the other boy, he’s not sure how appropriate it would be to just drop his problems onto junhui’s shoulders. the only other person who knows enough about the nightmares to listen would be—

“chan. earth to chan. hello?”

hansol’s voice startles chan out of his thoughts. he turns to look at his roommate, who's sitting cross legged on his bed, leaning back against the wall. 

“you okay?” hansol’s brow furrows in concern. he sets down the phone in his hands, giving chan his full attention.

_how's your chance_ , whispers a voice in the back of chan’s head. _you can tell him. let it out._

chan opens his mouth, words rising to the tip of his tongue, before they fall away again. telling hansol would mean making hansol concerned, would mean giving his problems to someone else to deal with. he can't do that, can't force his issues onto his friends. it's chan’s curse, after all. he’ll figure it out on his own.

“yea, i'm fine. did you need something?” chan swallows his original statement, brushing off hansol’s worries with a reassuring nod of his head. 

hansol doesn't look convinced, but to chan’s relief, he lets it slide. “didn't you say you had a meeting today?”

“oh, _shit._ theater club.” chan scrambles to his feet, his fingers fumbling with his phone to check the time. _9:52_. he’s definitely going to be late. 

he grabs the nearest t-shirt and the cleanest pair of shorts he can find. chan stuffs his phone into the side pocket once he’s pulled them on while simultaneously checking his reflection in the mirror on the back of the door. a couple swipes of his hand through his hair will have to suffice, he decides, groaning internally at the deep purple eyebags decorating his face. terrible, as always.

“have fun!” hansol calls as chan pulls the door open, hurtling out into the hallway. 

“thanks!” chan yells back. he dashes through the hall and down the three flights of stairs, too impatient to wait for the elevator. bursting onto the sidewalk, chan practically sprints all the way to the studio. _across from the campus starbucks_ , junhui had said. desperately, chan hopes that he’s thinking of the right place.

his sneakers pound against the pavement as he propels himself down the sidewalk. chan skids to a halt when he catches sight of the familiar green awning, emblazoned with the white company logo. glancing across the street, he spots a glass door complete with a decal of a ballerina. 

he crosses the road and pushes his way into the dance studio. inside, chan finds himself in a sort of lobby area, with several doors lining the walls. there's a boy with chestnut-colored hair sitting on a bench in the corner. he looks up when chan enters and flashes one of the brightest smiles chan has ever seen. 

“hi! here for theater club?” chan nods, still panting, and the boy’s grin grows even more brilliant. “what’s your name?”

“lee chan.” chan says in between gasps for air. he tries to muster up a friendly smile of his own. “sorry if i'm a little late.”

“oh!” the boy’s eyes widen in recognition, completely ignoring chan’s tardiness. “you're the one junhui-hyung mentioned!”

chan startles at that. “oh, um—”

“don’t worry, all good things.” the boy’s voice is warm, reassuring. “i'm lee seokmin, it's nice to meet you! anyways, since junhui already told us you’d be coming, you don't actually have to go to the general meeting. soonyoung’s here to explain a few things to you and then you'll be good to go. third door on the left.”

“thanks.” chan answers, at a bit of a loss for words. he heads in the direction that seokmin had indicated, pushing the door open just slightly and peeking into the room. 

there’s someone sitting on the floor of the dance studio, black bucket hat shielding his face from view. at the sound of the door, he raises his head, smiling when he sees chan.

“lee chan, right?” the boy pushes himself off the ground, dusting off his black skinny jeans before approaching chan by the doorway. 

“that's me.” _god, is everyone here always this smiley?_

“awesome. kwon soonyoung, at your service. junhui wanted to be here, but something came up, so he sent me instead.” soonyoung returns to his place in the center of the studio. he beckons for chan to join him. they sit on the wooden floor side by side, facing the wall of mirrors. 

chan hums in acknowledgement, taking in the space around him. he hasn't visited a dance studio since middle school, when his parents signed him up for classes in one of their many attempts to find him some friends (it hadn't worked). all the same, he feels a sudden pang of nostalgia at his surroundings, remembering the excitement and energy that had always thrummed through these kinds of spaces. 

“junhui said something about magical protection, right?” chan nods at soonyoung's question. "well, you've come to the right place."

soonyoung takes off his bucket hat, setting it on the floor and checking his appearance in the mirrors. the blood drains from chan’s face at the sight, all thoughts of both dance and theater completely erased.

soonyoung’s hair is purple. and not just any shade of purple, either. it's the violet that's been lingering in his mind since that one nightmare, the color of the fire that burns through his dreams. chan stares, brain going into overdrive as he tries to comprehend what he’s seeing.

it must be a coincidence, that's all. maybe chan’s just worked up from everything curse-related that's been happening lately. maybe he’s making things up. he pushes his apprehension aside as soonyoung begins speaking again, seemingly oblivious to his averse reaction.

“you'll be on the musical team this semester with me this semester.” soonyoung grins. “we’ll do a couple informal meetings, but actual rehearsals won’t start until the cast is finalized and everyone is ready to go. we’ll send you the schedule when it comes out.” 

chan nods slowly. he averts his eyes from soonyoung's hair and takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “uh, i’ve never really done anything in theater before. what exactly am i going to be doing?”

“you can just help out wherever we might need extra hands. all the main positions are basically covered, so you’ll just work on whatever needs to get done. we’ll teach you the basics, don't worry. it's always good to have someone else on deck.” soonyoung explains. the twinkle in his eyes is somewhat comforting, even though chan is still reeling.

“okay.” there's an awkward pause, before a question rises to chan's lips in an attempt to break the ice. “what show are you guys doing this year?”

soonyoung perks up at that. “we’re actually doing an original this time around! a couple members of the club have been working on their own musical for about three years now and we’re finally going to get to perform it. isn't that so exciting?”

he rattles on before chan can even answer, about the genius who has evidently produced and composed the entire show, about the storyline and the characters and the set design, none of which chan understands. but instead of interrupting, he simply watches, eyes drifting over in the mirror to take in soonyoung’s face: the carefully drawn eyeliner, the well-defined jawline, the wide grin taking over his features as he animatedly explains the plot of the musical, complete with extravagant hand gestures. it takes a moment for chan to connect the dots.

soonyoung is _attractive_.

it's still off-putting, the unnerving purple of the hair falling into bright eyes. but it works, somehow, and as much as chan despises the color, he has to admit soonyoung definitely pulls it off. and the enthusiasm with which he speaks is absolutely infectious. chan finds himself involuntarily smiling along to his explanations, even if he's not actually processing a single word the other boy is saying.

“—so yea, this year is a pretty big deal for all of us. it's going to be really good.” soonyoung concludes, clapping his hands together and snapping chan out of his daze. “i think the team’s getting together later this week to officially get started, so you can meet everyone else there. if you give me your number, i’ll text you the details when we figure them out.” 

he fishes his phone out of his pocket and unlocks it before handing it over. chan sends himself a text, his own phone buzzing in confirmation against his thigh. soonyoung leans back while he waits, bracing his weight on his palms and stretching out his legs.

“done.” chan locks the phone in his hands. as he returns it to soonyoung, a third question rises to the tip of his tongue, and he blurts it out before he can stop himself. “junhui said there's a lot of magically capable people in the club. are you…” he trails off, trying to find the words.

soonyoung tenses ever so slightly, previously languid limbs going tight for just a moment before relaxing again. “you could say that.” the grin on his face has gone sour, devoid of mirth. 

_shit_. the air stills, stale with awkwardness once again. chan wracks his brain for a way out, something to push the conversation off the evidently touchy subject. 

in the end, it’s soonyoung who speaks first. “i’m definitely not the magic expert, so we can figure all of that out later. we’ll be getting together pretty regularly after the first meeting, so it should work out just fine.”

some of his original brightness returns, a little softer this time. “you'll be safe with us. don't worry.”

chan can only nod, a trace of something stirring in his gut.

satisfied, soonyoung jumps to his feet. “that's all there really is to it! if you have any questions, feel free to just shoot me a text. otherwise, i’ll see you later this week!”

“see you.” chan rises from the floor, heading for the doorway. soonyoung walks with him into the lobby, all the way to the front entrance. 

“it’s great to have you, chan.” he says suddenly, turning towards the younger with a glitter of something in his eyes. fondness? warmth? chan can't tell.

chan swallows, throat suddenly very dry. “thanks.”

he pushes the glass door open and steps onto the sidewalk. then, with one last wave at soonyoung, chan heads home, mind full of purple hair and smiling eyes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long time no update :] i know i said i was going to update every two-three weeks but i've been swamped with a LOT more work than i was expecting. i actually wrote this chapter a while ago, and i was planning to do rewriting/editing, but then i realized that i really didn't want to (oops). so here it is!! soonyoung and chan finally meet!! it's not my favorite thing i've ever written, but at least it exists now.
> 
> thank you to the anon in my cc who very politely asked about this fic. you honestly inspired me to come back to it after a long time away and i forgot how invested i really am in this concept. this chapter is for you <3
> 
> i know i said this last time, but i think i'll be more consistent with updating for real from now on. i've already made some headway into the next chapter so!! hopes are high :D a big thank you to everyone who's supported this fic so far, it means the world to me.
> 
> scream about home;run (soty!) with me on [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/aerojuns) or leave thoughts in my [ccat](https://www.curiouscat.me/mochihui)!!


	3. feeling dead and a half (but you're making me laugh)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chan meets the theater club.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title from "sleep alone" by waterparks

soonyoung’s text comes a couple days later, in the middle of chan’s intro to biology lecture. he debates for a moment, staring at the name that’s popped up on the screen, before pulling his phone under the desk and clicking on the latest notification.

_meeting on thursday night at 7 in the campus auditorium (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧_ , chan reads. he stifles a snicker at the little emoticon soonyoung has provided. 

_sounds good_ , he types back. a couple seconds later, he adds, _wait where is the auditorium?_

chan returns his phone to the top of the table, flipping it over and refocusing on the slideshow at the front of the lecture theater. just when he’s begun jotting down the next set of notes, his phone buzzes again.

he debates for a moment, but ultimately puts down his pen and slips the device back under the table.

_it’s the building next to the dining hall!!_ as chan watches, the typing bubble reappears, followed by another message. _don’t be late!! i know u almost were last time ↁ_ↁ_

chan’s lips twitch upwards. _i’ll do my best_ , he shoots back. 

it's a while before soonyoung’s next text comes through, long enough for chan to completely turn his attention back to the lecture and actually get down a few notes. when his phone does vibrate again, he doesn't hesitate, picking it up almost instantly. 

_such fast replies (o_o)_ , soonyoung has written. _r u bored or smth?_

_kinda. in class_ _rn._ chan replies. the typing symbol pops up as soon as the message has sent.

_lee chan!! pay attention!! ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ_

there's no stopping the grin spreading across his face this time. _fine_ , he answers, before pocketing his phone and looking back up at the slideshow once more. 

he tries to pay attention for the rest of the class, he really does. but the anticipation sparking in his chest at the thought of thursday night (and seeing soonyoung again) is far too distracting for chan to actually get any work done.

—

true to his word, chan makes it to the thursday night meeting with five minutes to spare. the rows of chairs in auditorium are dark when he enters, but the stage lights are on, illuminating the small cluster of people sitting on the platform. chan counts six figures in total, looking tiny in such a huge space.

his footsteps echo through the vast room. someone on the stage stands up, looking around. familiar silver hair glows under the bright lights. 

“chan!” junhui calls, waving wildly in his direction. chan quickens his pace until he reaches the edge of the stage. he swings a leg over and boosts himself up before stepping over to where everyone else is gathered. 

junhui scoots over to make room, and chan sits down, looking around at unfamiliar faces. he spots seokmin, who shoots him a dazzling smile, but there's no sign of the purple locks he was expecting.

“everyone, this is lee chan. he’s new to the theater, so please be nice.” junhui announces. there's a few nods, a couple murmurs of “nice to meet you”. chan waves a bit awkwardly.

“welcome to the team, chan. i’m choi seungcheol, the stage manager this year.” a boy says, seated on the other side of the little circle from chan. “we’re just waiting for a couple more people, then we’ll get started.”

sure enough, the auditorium doors burst open a couple minutes later, loud voices filling the open space. 

“see, i told you we were going to be late!” soonyoung’s unmistakable whine reaches chan’s ears. “if we had left the library earlier we’d be here on time!”

a second, unfamiliar voice cuts him off, exasperated. “if you didn't distract me so much while i was trying to finish my paper, maybe we would've left earlier.”

at chan’s side, junhui snorts. “just hurry up and get over here already!” he calls, hands cupped around his mouth. 

soonyoung emerges from the dark rows of seats. he leaps onto the stage as if he's done it a thousand times before, with all the grace of a hunting cat. another boy follows, much shorter than soonyoung, pushing himself up with his forearms. 

“chan!” soonyoung’s face splits into a grin when he spots him. he turns back to his friend with a pout. “i can't believe you made us late _and_ embarrassed me in front of our newest member. how could you, jihoonie?” his voice rises, comically high pitched.

the other boy just rolls his eyes. “don't call me that.” he mutters, choosing to settle down on junhui’s other side. soonyoung skips over to plop himself into the open spot by seokmin, eyes still crinkled into a smile.

“now that soonyoung and jihoon have decided to grace us with their presence, let’s get started.” seungcheol shakes his honey-colored bangs out of his eyes, glancing around the circle with an air of unspoken authority. “i know opening night seems really far away, but it’ll be here before we know it. let’s do a quick progress update and then we can get to work, okay?”

there’s a collective murmur of “okay”, and seungcheol smiles, satisfied. he turns to seokmin, who’s seated on his left. “seokmin, you can start.”

“aye aye, captain.” seokmin flashes his brilliant grin. “we’re having one batch of initial auditions this weekend, and another one next week. callbacks should be within the next month or so, and then jeonghan and i will have the final list. we’re going to have some really good leads and plenty of ensemble, don’t you worry.”

“we _are_ really good leads.” the boy beside seokmin pipes up, “aren’t we, cheol-ah?” he shoots a smirk at the leader.

seungcheol simply raises an eyebrow. “you won't be a lead if you don't help seokmin with that cast list, jeonghan.”

“you're such a loser.” jeonghan sighs with a shake of his head. his blonde hair bounces in the air, effervescent underneath the stage lighting. chan finds himself momentarily mesmerized.

cheol ignores the jab, eyes sweeping over to the next person in the circle. “jihoon, how about you?”

chan loses track of the conversation after that, head spinning as he listens to each member of the team describe their work. junhui rambles on about the difficulties of orchestral arrangements until jihoon pokes him in the side and reminds him that he’s already way ahead of schedule. a boy named mingyu shows the group a few pages from his sketchbook, filled with ideas for potential set designs. when it's soonyoung’s turn, the purple-haired boy proudly reports that he’s finished choreographing two whole songs, and he’s almost done with a third. chan perks up at the mention of dance, eyes lingering on soonyoung for a moment too long before he hurriedly looks away.

“sounds good, everyone.” seungcheol claps his hands together. “keep it up! let’s make this musical the best one yet!”

cheers rise from the little group at that, led by soonyoung and seokmin. seungcheol chuckles. “we've got the auditorium for the rest of the night, so do whatever you can. please try to go home before midnight.” he casts a sharp glance jihoon, who looks back with feigned innocence. 

the circle disperses after that, different people running every which way across the stage. chan remains where he is, still running through the meeting in his mind, trying to figure out where he should go next. someone taps him on the shoulder, and he whirls around in surprise, coming face to face with seungcheol.

“can i have a minute?” he asks. the more commanding edge has disappeared from his tone, leaving it softer, more open. at chan’s nod, seungcheol leads him to the edge of the stage, where he takes a seat and gestures for chan to do the same. they sit side by side, facing the dark rows of chairs, legs dangling over the side of the platform.

“since you’re new and all, i thought i should explain the basics. i know soonyoung said he went over some things with you last weekend, but he has a tendency to go a little fast, so.” seungcheol’s lips curve into a knowing smile. 

_that’s one way to put it_ , chan thinks to himself. “that would be great, thanks,” he replies, unable to keep the relief out of his voice. 

seungcheol begins to describe the roles of each team member, pausing patiently as chan commits each position to memory. his voice is steady, and chan’s confusion begins to clear. he even manages to pipe in a few questions near the end of seungcheol’s speech, clarifying some of the finer points.

the more he learns, the more chan appreciates the theater. everyone has their own position to fill, he realizes, in order to create the final production. they’re all part of something bigger, and now chan gets to be a part of it too. he’s still turning it over in his mind when there’s a shout from the other side of the auditorium. 

“wonwoo!” junhui practically shrieks from where he’s sitting, surrounded by sheet music. he jumps up, dashing down the stage steps and through the rows of chairs to hurl himself at the newcomer with all his might. wonwoo barely manages to catch him, plastic bag nearly slipping from his hand as he wraps an arm around junhui.

seungcheol lets out a laugh. “those kids.” there’s fondness in his voice.

“you brought food for me!” junhui exclaims. “you're the best, wonu.” he reaches for the takeout bag in wonwoo’s hands, but the other jerks it away.

“it's not for you, silly. you already ate dinner. it’s for jihoon.” somehow, chan had completely missed jihoon’s arrival. the shorter boy has a satisfied look on his face as he accepts the food from wonwoo.

“that's not fair! how do you know jihoon hasn't had dinner already too?” junhui pouts. wonwoo ruffles his hair with his now empty hands.

“because jihoon likes to lock himself in his studio and forget that he actually needs to eat to function.” wonwoo shoots jihoon a stern look, but the other boy ignores it, having already extracted a chicken skewer from the box.

still, junhui’s pout doesn't let up. wonwoo lets out an exasperated sigh and pulls junhui back into his arms. chan watches junhui melt against wonwoo, pieces clicking together in his head. _oh. so that's why they're so inseparable._

chin perched on the crown of junhui’s head, wonwoo finally spots chan. “chan!” he calls. “you're joining up?”

chan pushes himself off the stage, then remembers his companion and looks back at seungcheol. the older makes a sort of shooing gesture with his hands, chuckling. chan smiles and bounds across the auditorium towards his friend.

“i told him to come, remember?” junhui nudges wonwoo in the arm. “how is it so far?”

“i like it.” chan says. and he does, more than he had imagined he would. he likes the cheerful energy in the air as everyone works, the laughter sweeping through the room at random intervals and the occasional playful shouting. he likes the easy camaraderie of it all. he doesn't remember the last time he felt like he really belonged somewhere, but here in the auditorium, chan thinks he might have a place to call his own. 

“that's great.” wonwoo speaks up, giving chan a glance full of barely concealed pride, soft around the edges. chan feels a sudden rush of gratitude for his friend. if it wasn't for wonwoo’s constant encouragement and companionship, chan probably wouldn't have even applied to university, wouldn't have made it this far. he’s not sure how he’ll ever repay the endless patience and support his friend has given him over the years.

“you came for magic help, right?” jihoon’s interjection brings chan crashing back down to reality. he had forgotten about the curse for a moment, so caught up in everything around him. he hums in affirmation, the usual weight of his exhaustion sinking back into him.

jihoon studies him for a moment, piercing gaze cutting straight through chan. “can i have a word?”

chan hesitates. even with his more childlike facial features and short stature, something about jihoon radiates _power_ , as if he could bring a person down with his stare alone. “okay,” he finally answers.

“don't scare him, jihoonie!” junhui’s voice is muffled from where his face is once again buried in the fabric of wonwoo’s t-shirt. jihoon chuckles drily at that before setting off, glancing over his shoulder to see if chan is following. 

they find a spot near the back of the auditorium, far enough from the stage that they can no longer hear any other voices. jihoon settles into his own foldout seat, making himself comfortable before turning to chan.

“so, what kind of magic are we dealing with here?”

chan startles at the question. “junhui didn't tell you?”

jihoon shakes his head. “he just said you needed magical assistance. also something about a crow?” he mimes air quotes around the words “magical assistance”.

_he was protecting my privacy_ , chan realizes, a little stunned at the gesture. it isn’t until jihoon clears his throat that he remembers to respond.

“oh, yea.” the rehearsed explanation falls from his lips without a second thought. “i’m cursed to have nightmares. all my good dreams are replaced with bad ones. and i saw a crow the other day, so. junhui wanted me to stick around with you guys for safety.” 

jihoon contemplates chan’s words for a moment, staring off into space. “i've never heard of a curse like that before. must be some strong stuff, if it’s actually shaping your dreams.”

chan shifts uncomfortably in his chair. “have you dealt with curses before, then?”

“sorta comes with the territory, doesn't it?” jihoon turns towards him with a smile, but stops at chan’s confused look. “oh, i’m a witch.”

chan makes a noise of comprehension. “right, got it.”

“so, has anything changed since you saw the crow?” jihoon’s tone shifts back into seriousness.

“uh, yea.” chan hesitates, trying to find the right words. “i saw it again, actually, and then that night i had another nightmare. it was one i’d had before, but it changed this time around.” something lifts from chan’s shoulders as he speaks, a weight he hadn't realized was there. 

jihoon hums. “that sounds about right. the crow probably means that the person who cast the curse is nearby, so it would make sense for the nightmares to get worse.”

“that’s what junhui said.” chan affirms. “is there anything i can do, or…”

“well, have you ever thought about trading the curse?” jihoon asks, matter-of-fact. chan stiffens, picking his next words with great care.

“i guess? if i could find someone, i wouldn't mind trading.” he shrugs nonchalantly, even as the truth washes over him: _i want to trade. i want to be rid of this curse, even if it ends up on someone else’s shoulders. that’s half the reason i’m here._ guilt rises in his throat like bile at the thought.

jihoon casts a gaze towards the stage, where a few of the team members are still working. “i could try and find you a trade, if you'd like? i know someone who might be up for it, but i’d have to talk to them first.”

the breath leaves chan’s lungs, stolen by the glimmer of hope suddenly burning red-hot in his heart. “you would do that?” he hadn’t expected such a straightforward solution.

jihoon shrugs. “‘course. you came looking for help, after all. plus, you’re wonwoo’s friend, so you get bonus points for that. as long as you’re okay with it, i'll do my best.”

“you’re sure it's not too much trouble?” chan presses. at jihoon’s nod, he bites his lip, suppressing the grin that’s threatening to split across his face. “that would be amazing. thank you so so much.”

jihoon waves a hand dismissively. “it’s no problem, really. i’ll make you a talisman in the meantime, so you’ve at least got some protection. and it would be good for you to stay with someone when you’re out, especially someone from the club.”

“i’ll do that.” chan promises. 

“good.” jihoon decides. “you’ll probably be best off with seungcheol or mingyu, but junhui and i can always step in too.”

“why seungcheol and mingyu?” chan looks out at the auditorium, searching for the people in question.

jihoon slaps a hand to his forehead. “sorry, i forgot you didn’t know. seungcheol and mingyu are werewolves. they’d be strong enough to protect you in case anything bad happens. jun and i would be okay too, but we’d just have to rely more on spellwork, which is a little riskier.”

“makes sense.” chan nods, trying not to appear fazed. his encounters with magical beings had always been limited, mostly due to the worry of his parents. already bearing the weight of a curse, they had tried to steer chan away from anything magical in the hope that they would prevent any potential accidents. “what about the rest of the club?”

“let’s see.” jihoon holds up a hand, ticking each member off on his fingers. “jeonghan’s a vampire. you haven't met jisoo and minghao yet, but they’re fairies. and i’m pretty sure seokmin’s part angel. either that or he’s just an exceptionally good human being.”

chan laughs at that, but he doesn't miss the omission of soonyoung from the list. was the other boy human, or was jihoon not telling him something?

jihoon pushes himself out of his chair, dusting off his pants. “that settles it, then. i’ll get you that talisman at the next meeting, whenever that is. take care of yourself until then.”

“thanks so much, hyung.” chan scrambles into a bow.

“no need to thank me.” jihoon shakes his head. “you’re part of the team now. we’re here for you.”

_part of the team._ chan has a place here, in this theater, surrounded by people who don’t shy away from him because of his curse. he’s only been here for an hour, but it already feels like home.

“see you later, chan!” jihoon heads out of the aisle and down the auditorium stairs. he pauses halfway, turning back. 

“if you need help, just ask. you don't have to shoulder everything alone.” 

and with that, jihoon dashes away, tackling an unsuspecting junhui by the stage. chan watches him go, the beginnings of a lump forming in the back of his throat.

maybe, just maybe, he’s no longer alone.

—

the team begins to pack up around 10, various members emerging from the backstage area one at a time. chan looks up from where he’s been helping junhui sort through stacks and stacks of sheet music, catching a glimpse of seokmin as the other boy stumbles over a stray cable, too engaged in conversation with jeonghan to watch where he’s going.

“we’re almost done here.” junhui says, thumbing through another set of pages. “thanks for the help, chan. you can head out if you want.”

chan rises to his feet, rolling back his shoulders to relieve the cramp of being bent over piles of paper for so long. “see you later, junhui-hyung.”

“see you.” junhui answers absentmindedly, focused on the music in his hands. as chan begins to walk away, he calls out “jihoonie! can you come check this real quick?”

jihoon doesn’t seem to hear junhui, probably due to the large headphones over his ears. it takes several more calls of “jihoonie!” for him to finally notice, and a few more seconds before he uncurls himself from his seat and sets down his laptop. interestingly enough, he doesn't comment on junhui’s use of the nickname like he did earlier with soonyoung, heading over to junhui’s little workstation without complaint.

chan climbs down from the stage and begins to make his way up the aisle towards the door. halfway there, he spots wonwoo in the middle of one of the rows and redirects his footsteps to meet him.

wonwoo closes the book in his lap as chan approaches. “how was it?” he asks.

chan drops into the seat next to his friend, trying to find a way to express the warmth in his chest. “it was good. i like it here.”

he can hear wonwoo’s smile in his voice. “that's amazing, chan. really.” a hand comes to rest on chan’s shoulder.

they sit in comfortable silence for a bit, the kind of moment chan’s only ever been able to share with wonwoo. he had met the other boy in his first year of high school, lost and alone amidst a sea of new faces and expectations. wonwoo had been the first magical being chan had ever met, understanding his curse more than anyone else and taking him under his wing almost immediately. they had shared countless lunches in the little courtyard behind their school building, chan nodding off occasionally with his head pillowed on wonwoo’s lap. even after wonwoo had graduated, he had always made time for chan on his visits back home, sharing stories of university and encouraging chan to try it out for himself. 

“jihoon was helpful, i take it?” wonwoo asks after a few moments.

“yea.” chan hums. “he said he’ll make me a talisman, but i’m not sure how long it’ll take.” 

wonwoo laughs. “he tries to take all the credit, doesn’t he? i’ve been working on a charm for a week now, but junhui and i thought you should tell him about the curse yourself, so he hasn't been helping yet.”

chan sits up straight. “you’ve been what?”

“did you think i was going to let you wander around with a crow hanging over your head?” wonwoo scoffs. “i’m nearly done, but jihoon might want to make some adjustments.”

“jihoon’s always making adjustments.” a different voice rings out from behind wonwoo. soonyoung stands at the opposite end of the row of seats, trademark grin in place. even in the dim lights, there’s a certain sparkle to his eyes.

“soonyoung!” wonwoo waves. “i feel like i haven’t seen you in forever! how’s it going?”

soonyoung makes his way towards them, footsteps neat and light. “that’s because i haven’t seen you in forever, dude.” he settles down into a seat. “but you’ve stolen my roommate, because jihoon spends at least eighty percent of his time in your room.”

“sorry.” wonwoo says, even though he doesn’t look very apologetic. “classes been treating you okay, though?”

soonyoung shrugs. “same as usual, although i’m sure i’m doing better than some people.” he looks past wonwoo to wink at chan.

chan feels his face heat up, his phone weighing heavy in the pocket of his jeans. “that was one time!”

“whatever you say.” soonyoung quirks an eyebrow at him playfully. 

wonwoo looks between them with a frown. “i think i’m missing something here.”

soonyoung waves his hand airily. “it’s nothing. more importantly, how is the theater treating you, chan?”

“it’s been good so far.” chan answers, for what feels like the hundreth time, unable to find any other words. he wants to add on, but the sight of soonyoung’s crinkling eyes makes him lose some coherency.

“great!” soonyoung practically bounces in his seat. “you can come help me with the choreography at some point, i could always use an extra person.”

“don’t terrorize him.” wonwoo chuckles, earning a light punch on the arm. “shouldn’t you be heading back now? jihoon said you had 8ams on fridays.”

soonyoung groans. “oh god, i forgot. i better get out of here or i’ll sleep through it again.”

“and you said you were doing better in classes than me.” chan pipes up, uncharacteristically snarky. 

“this is slander!” soonyoung cries in mock-outrage. wonwoo snorts out loud, and chan can feel a smug smile stretching its way across his face. 

“i’ll come with you.” wonwoo says, dropping his book into his backpack and standing up. “junhui and jihoon will probably be here until at least midnight. chan, i can walk with you to your dorm if you want.”

chan stands up too, unable to keep a yawn from escaping his mouth. “sure.”

the three of them file out of the auditorium and into the chilly autumn air. they walk towards the dormitories, conversation bouncing between them easily. even in the dark, soonyoung’s presence is bright, coaxing both wonwoo and chan into returning his teasing comments. chan’s cheeks hurt from laughing by the time they reach the crossroads, where soonyoung turns left towards the third-year dormitories. 

“i’ll see you guys later!” he waves before jogging off, purple hair flashing here and there under the streetlamps.

chan watches him disappear into the darkness until wonwoo taps him on the shoulder. “let’s go, it’s late.”

without soonyoung to facilitate conversation, wonwoo and chan fall into their usual quietness. the shadows seem a lot more menacing in the silence, and chan keeps his head bowed, afraid to look up and accidentally catch a glimpse of a certain unfriendly bird. 

they make it to the door of the first-year dormitory. chan makes to pull back the glass door, but wonwoo starts speaking before his fingers can touch the handle.

“did jihoon ask you about the trade?”

chan’s shoulders stiffen. “yea, he did.” he mumbles. “i told him it was okay.”

“it is okay, you know.” wonwoo says, tone gentle. “i know you don’t love the idea, but it could really help.”

chan sighs. he doesn’t quite understand the mix of shame and relief he feels at the thought of the trade, doesn’t know whether to be grateful or disgusted. he’s wanted this for so long, and yet he doesn’t want it, doesn’t want to give someone else the horrors of his nightly visions. 

_you don’t have to shoulder everything alone_. jihoon’s words appear in his mind again. maybe the older boy is right, but chan’s still not sure if he can find it in himself to give such a horrible piece of himself to another person, possibly forever.

“think about it.” wonwoo reaches out, wrapping chan into a hug. “you’ll figure it out.” chan inhales the fabric of wonwoo’s shirt, eyes closed, images of the last few hours flashing through his mind, the fresh memory of laughter bubbling through his gut. 

wonwoo releases him after a few moments. “goodnight, chan.” he gives him one more pat on the shoulder, before turning around and heading down the path.

chan turns too, pulling aside the door and stepping into the dormitory building. for some reason, the afterimage of the auditorium remains imprinted on his eyelids all the way up to his room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy halloween!!! i really really wanted to get something out on spooky day because yknow magic and curses and spooky things all tie together :] but this ended up being the least spooky chapter so far OOPS. anyways.
> 
> i LOVE writing the entirety of seventeen and fleshing out their dynamics with each other!! it's really so so much fun. i didn't tag any side pairings in the actual tags and i also left it a little ambiguous but maybe you can see where i'm going with them ;) also i really got to dive into chan a little more here and that made me very happy he's truly the best boy. all of svt WILL make an appearance within the fic i am determined to make it happen!!
> 
> please excuse any inaccuracies regarding theater things!! i'm not a real theater kid myself but i am friends with quite a few so i'll ask them for advice where needed. also, in case it wasn't clear, the ages in this fic mirror their actual ages (so 95 line are all in one year, 96 the year under, etc.) but i grouped maknae line all together so chan and vernon are the same age!!
> 
> as always, comments, kudos, and any forms of support are greatly appreciated <3
> 
> scream about the sheer amount of photos seventeen has been posting lately with me on [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/aerojuns) or leave thoughts in my [ccat](https://www.curiouscat.me/mochihui)!!


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